


hold my hand

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Eating Disorders, Fainting, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prinxiety - Freeform, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 21:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20104165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Virgil has a secret.





	hold my hand

Sometimes, when the anxiety is a tidal wave, threatening to spill over and destroy everything in its path, Virgil stops eating.

He doesn't even _mean_ to sometimes, it's just that the thought of actually swallowing anything is enough for his throat to tighten and his stomach to churn with nausea, a familiar warning about what he knows _will_ happen if he tries to eat.

When he lived with the others, Deceit would coax him to sip broth and nibble on popsicles. But Deceit doesn't come up here- not often, anyway- so he doesn't know that Virgil's tremble has become even more pronounced, that his collarbones are sharp and fluted and his fingers look even longer, thanks to their slenderness. That his hoodie hides a multitude of sins.

Roman doesn't know, either, because Virgil refuses to sleep in his room when he's like this. He's upset at first- and doesn't Virgil feel like an asshole- but Virgil finally manages to convince him that it's temporary and it's just because of the stress Thomas is under. They all feel the effects of said stress, so Roman doesn't even question it. Virgil thinks it is only that stress that prevents Deceit from materializing then and there to shout "BULLSHIT" right in his face.

"At least come to dinner," Roman coaxes, and Virgil can't say no to that face, no matter how hard he wants to. "Patton made spaghetti and garlic bread," Roman continues, and Virgil can smell it, heavy and fragrant, in the air. He wishes he could subsist off that. He has a better chance of _that_ than managing to eat more than a bite or two of Patton's food and that's going to upset Patton, which will upset Roman, and it will be _all his fault-_

"Hey," Roman says, stopping dead. "Virge? Storm cloud, breathe. It's okay. Did you not want spaghetti? You don't have to eat it."

"What's wrong?" Logan's voice, coming closer, and soon, Virgil can hear Patton's concerned tones, too, but it all sounds very far away, and his ears are full of static-

He doesn't fall, so much as he bonelessly slides to the floor in a heap, caught by Roman in the nick of time. The last thing he hears is Roman's anguished voice say, "He's so _light_-"

He wakes up slowly, his head pounding, to discover he's been settled on the living room couch. Roman sits next to him, still holding his hand. Virgil can still smell garlic bread and he cringes. He can guess what happened. How could he have been so _stupid_? And now Roman feels obligated to sit here with him, when he should-

"You're awake," Roman says in relief, peering down at him. "Patton! Logan! He's awake!"

"Good," a too-familiar voice responds instead. Virgil groans when Deceit comes into view, nearly sauntering. "Well, Virgil, this isn't at all a familiar place for you to be in, is it?"

"Screw you," Virgil mutters, taking refuge in talking back, though it hurts to talk. How long has he gone without _drinking_ something? He can't remember.

"Certainly, darling, but your boyfriend might take offense," Deceit sasses right back, making Virgil go painfully red out to his ears.

"Deceit helped me put you on the couch," Roman supplies. "He uh- he said you do this a lot."

"Not a _lot_," Virgil corrects. "It's just er- It's my anxiety."

"Virgil, are you actually trying to lie when the embodiment of deceit is standing right in front of you?" Deceit asks incredulously, as Patton and Logan stumble into the room. Patton's carrying a tray that looks fit for an invalid. It's... startlingly reminiscent of the trays Deceit would make up for him and he can tell by the way Deceit's suddenly looked away that he's drawing the same parallels.

"Deceit wouldn't explain very much without your permission," Roman says, subdued. His fingers squeeze Virgil's limp ones. "But I can guess. You can hide much behind a hoodie, can't you?"

Virgil flushes redder.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Virge, I'll always worry about you, I _love_ you," Roman insists. "Please. Even if you don't say anything right now. That's fine. Just. Let us help you?" Virgil swallows, looking at everyone crowded into the living room. Even Deceit, who came up for him.

"Okay," he says. "Thank you." 

Roman grins in relief, leaning down and pecking Virgil on the lips.

"You're welcome," he says. "Now, uh- Deceit, what did you do with my brother?" Deceit freezes, his eyes comically wide.

"Oh, _shit_," he says, and promptly sinks out.


End file.
